Mad Cow Theatre in Orlando struggles to find financial footing

An anonymous gift of $100,000 will go a long way toward strengthening the financial position of Orlando's Mad Cow Theatre, executives say.

An anonymous gift of $100,000 will go a long way toward strengthening the financial position of Orlando's Mad Cow Theatre, executives say.

Matthew J. Palm and Mark Schlueb, Orlando Sentinel Staff Writers

An anonymous gift of $100,000 will go a long way toward strengthening the financial position ofOrlando'sMad Cow Theatre, executives say.

But will the recent donation go far enough?

Mad Cow's profile rose dramatically when the City Council approved a deal in 2011 that gave downtown's only professional theater a prime, rent-free location on Church Street. Yet the company has struggled with a city payment plan for remodeling and other fees. And former employees and actors associated with Mad Cow say finances have been shaky for years.

Many had long waits — some, nearly four years — to receive money owed them. Others tell of using personal funds to build sets for the theater's shows, or delaying the purchase of props while scrambling to find ways to pay for them.

"It's been a secret a lot of people have kept, but you can only keep things a secret for so long," said Samuel Hazell, a former actor and designer at the theater. "Nobody wants to see Mad Cow fail, but at the same time, how do you keep a business going that way?"

Top Mad Cow executives blame financial woes on the rent at the 17-year-old theater's former downtown location, which topped $100,000 per year. The situation was so bleak in 2010, they say, the curtain nearly came down for good.

"The easy thing to do would have been to close," said Brian McDowell, president of the theater's board of directors.

Still, officials held out hope that the city would come to the rescue. McDowell says it did.

"The theater wouldn't exist downtown if not for that deal," he said. Under its terms, Mad Cow was given a rent-free 20-year lease for the 8,854-square-foot space. But it was responsible for paying monthly utility bills and, beginning in December 2012, more than $1,000 per month in maintenance fees.

Most significantly, Mad Cow was required to reimburse the city $480,000, plus 5 percent interest, for converting the space in the 54 West development into a theater.

Mad Cow made the initial payment of $60,000 on time, city officials say. But there were signs of trouble when the next payment came due in December 2012: Instead of $140,000 plus interest, Mad Cow paid just $75,000.

The theater continued to fall behind. Mad Cow now is past due about $154,000, including interest, city officials say. At the end of this year, the final payment of $140,000 plus interest is due and maintenance fees will double.

McDowell said the theater hasn't paid the past-due amount because it is negotiating with a potential supporter who would pay off the entire debt. Last week's$100,000 pledge can't be used to pay the city; the donor earmarked it for general operating expenses.

Luckily, the city is a friendly landlord.

"It's not like we're going to be banging on the door tomorrow to collect. We support Mad Cow and want them to succeed, so I'm sure we'll have conversations" about the money owed, said Heather Fagan, deputy chief of staff for Mayor Buddy Dyer.

Some in the theater community, though, couldn't afford to be patient. Even after the move to the new space, several former employees said, cash-flow problems meant staff paychecks were sometimes delayed for weeks at a time.

"I just couldn't afford to have my check held. I had bills to pay," said Jeanine Lisa, who spent a year as the theater's production manager before resigning in August. The financial straits complicated her job, she said: "It was really difficult for me to continuously field phone calls from people saying, 'When am I going to get paid?'"

Actor Connor Marsico once threatened legal action to get paid. Another time, he said he wouldn't perform unless he received back pay. In both cases, Marsico said, he was paid.

"My feeling was you can't give someone a contract, saying 'I will pay you $400,' and then say 'We can't afford to pay you,'" Marsico said. "They were burning a bridge with me. I wasn't burning a bridge with them."

Yet many actors, even those owed money, continued to work at the theater. Many felt loyal to the organization and admired the quality of the onstage work.

"I would love nothing more than to see Mad Cow survive and become the company I gave 14 years of blood, sweat and tears," said Michael Marinaccio, a former actor, director and educator at the theater.

Now producer of the Orlando Fringe Festival, Marinaccio only recently received pay he had been owed since April 2010. "It makes me sad," he said. "I fear if business continues the way it has, there will no longer be a sustainable Mad Cow, and downtown Orlando will suffer."

Hazell, who says he spent his own money on scenery, is in a dispute with the theater over reimbursement. But McDowell said final payments were made this month to all actors and others owed for contract work with the theater.

"The financial fix was to do what we did," McDowell said. "Did it cause some disruption along the way? I suppose the actors who were affected would say it did. But I think it was the right decision. It wasn't easy."

The theater is making progress in shoring up its finances, McDowell said. The board of directors — once just three people including McDowell and Mad Cow executive director Mitzi Maxwell — has expanded to six. McDowell hopes to add still more members to increase oversight and aid in fundraising. In particular, he is looking for someone with financial experience to serve as treasurer.

"We still have a ways to go," Maxwell said. "We're hopeful when we get to season 20, our future will be even brighter than it is now."